


would you be so kind (as to fall in love with me?)

by forecast (wasatch97)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - College/University, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, M/M, chan is their unknowing enabler, jisung is a librarian, minho is a flirt, yeah thats how this goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29622024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasatch97/pseuds/forecast
Summary: “Your voice is pretty,” Minho murmurs, ignoring the jab as he’s elated at finally hearing his voice, and watches with pride as pink dusts the boy’s cheekbones. “You’re pretty.”“And you’re shameless,” he quips, sliding the last book onto the shelf and then turning to wheel his cart past Minho.Minho stands in the empty aisle, staring at the corner where the boy had disappeared, completely enthralled.or, the five times minho calls jisung pretty and the one time he doesn’t.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 12
Kudos: 245





	would you be so kind (as to fall in love with me?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daiseok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daiseok/gifts).



> here’s a little pick-me-up for writing buddy lena!
> 
> i could not think up a title so i was looking between our current favorite songs ([past lives](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cux2qJjApGA) and [would you be so kind](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5SVr4cayxIU), listen to them, they’re great!) and obviously chose the second haha
> 
> anyways, i hope you enjoy~!

**1**

“Hyung, I don’t want to do this.” Minho is trailing after Chan, following his friend as they walk across campus, the whole while whining and pleading to be allowed to turn back.

Chan glares at him over his shoulder, “Min, you got into the law program on sheer luck and now you need to put time into studying. Do you want to become a prosecutor or not?” 

Minho scrunches up his nose at the thought of his future. “Whatever.” 

Chan sighs and continues walking to the front of the library building, holding open the door for Minho. Minho’s mood instantly drops when he steps inside, looking around the large room with thinly veiled disgust. The first level has several large tables positioned about where students are working, and there are shelves filled with books around the perimeter. The main desk is to the right of the door, and there’s a small staircase to the left, which leads to a second floor that wraps around the room but leaves the ceiling visible from the ground floor, a large chandelier hanging above. The second floor has a railing going around the perimeter and Minho can see bookcases hiding plush leather chairs while stain glass windows letting in rainbows of light. 

He doesn’t hate the library itself, it’s kind of really beautiful, he simply hates the purpose for it. 

“Come on.” Chan leads Minho to one of the tables and pulls out a chair, which he forced Minho into. “I have to run to class, but you need to study for at least two hours. Min, at this point it isn’t a joke. You can’t just float by on talent like you have for the past four years.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Minho rolls his eyes for emphasis of his annoyance, but sets his bag down and pulls his laptop out. He knows when he’s lost. “Bye, mister med student.” Chan punches his shoulder, grinning, and walks off, leaving Minho alone to sulk. Somehow he can’t find it within himself to hate Chan for this, or for anything. 

Minho manages to work for about half an hour, typing blindly with unfocused eyes, before he gets bored. With a drawn out sigh of annoyance and exhaustion and everything that has built up within him in the past half hour, he closes his laptop and looks around, choosing to observe the other students. There’s just a handful of people and they all appear boring with their faces shoved up in books or computers. At the front desk there is an older looking man, probably the lead librarian, who is focused on scanning in books. 

Unable to be still a second longer Minho stands up, leaving his bag, and after glancing around for something interesting to do, he spots an archway in the corner, just past the desk. Without hesitation he saunters over, passing the old man who gives him a friendly glare, and crosses the threshold of the archway. When he steps into the adjoining room he’s instantly hit with the smell of new and aging books, and the uniqueness of the scent makes him wince. As he looks around he finds that this room is filled with rows and rows of double sided bookshelves, and not the wood ones that he’s seen in the other section of the building, but metal ones. It's a big room, almost as big as the main part of the library, but doesn’t have a second floor. Instead the ceiling is rather low, making it seem cramped.

Minho spots a small sign hanging from the ceiling just in front of him, which reads _Stacks._ Frowning, he decides he has nothing better to do than explore, so he walks down the main aisle. On the end of each row of shelves there’s a string of numbers that makes no sense to him, but he shrugs it off, as he knows it’ll be nothing that interests him. “How many fucking rows of books are there?” he mutters to himself, having passed at least ten cases. 

The room seems to be empty, as it’s deadly silent, but as he draws near the end of the room Minho hears a repetitive faint thump, and he searches for the source of the noise. In the third row from the back Minho finds it - in the form of a boy shelving books from an almost empty wheeled cart beside him. 

Minho watches him for a moment, unable to see his face from the angle they’re at. What he can see is how small the boy is and how he’s swimming in a beige sweater, the sleeves pushed up around his forearms as he moves around books. There’s a lanyard around his neck, which Minho assumes is identification; there’s no doubt in Minho’s mind that this boy doesn’t work in this library.

He has a _vibe._

“Hi.” Minho steps into the aisle, effectively startling the boy so much that he drops the book he was in the middle of sliding onto the shelf, and he turns to face Minho with impossibly wide almond eyes. 

Minho suddenly wants to run to Chan and thank him for bringing him here because this boy is possibly the prettiest human he’s ever laid eyes on, with full cheeks and pink lips, and Minho has a strong urge to try his luck with him. It would be a shame to pass up an opportunity like this. He smiles, hoping to ease the boy’s nervousness, and takes a step closer. “I’m Lee Minho. What’s your name?”

The boy stares up at him with an expression still painted with shock and something near fright. 

Minho frowns just slightly, not used to absolutely no response to a greeting. “Do you work here?”

Nothing. 

“Could you show me around? I’ve never been here before.”

Again, nothing.

Minho leans against the bookcase, his elbow knocking into a few books. He sees the boy’s eye twitch and laughs internally. “Has anyone told you how pretty you are?” 

The boy’s eyes widen further, pink coming to his cheeks. Minho can’t help but smirk, happy with his effect. But to his surprise the boy picks up the book he dropped and puts it onto the shelf and then rushes off with his cart, not looking back. Minho follows, watching him disappear through a door labeled ‘staff only.’

Maybe the library isn’t so bad after all.

**2**

“I’m going to the library.”

Chan nearly drops his coffee cup in shock. “Really?” 

Minho shrugs, “You were right yesterday. I do need to work harder.” 

“I’m proud of you,” Chan cheers, and sends Minho off with a slap on the back. 

The library is quieter than the previous day with a sparse count of student lingering about. Minho looks around but when he doesn’t see the person he’s come back for he goes to the other room, _Stacks_ , and walks up and down the rows without any luck. Extremely put out, he concludes the boy must not be working, but instead of leaving he decides to honor his friendship with Chan and work a bit. He chooses height this time and climbs up to the second floor, in search of one of the comfortable looking leather chairs. He’s nearly half way around the room when he spots a figure coming around the corner, a large stack of books in his arms. 

_Perfect._

“How is your day going?” Minho asks, reaching to take half of the books out of the boy’s arms before he can even register Minho is in front of him. 

The boy nearly trips in shock, staring up at Minho with confusion in his eyes. Again, he doesn’t speak, but Minho only sees it as a challenge. He gives the boy a lopsided grin, “Where are you taking these?” 

The boy seems to be weighing his options but after a long moment of contemplation he leads Minho down past a few shelves. When he’s arrived at his destination he turns back around and sets the rest of his books on top of the ones in Minho’s arms, smiling slightly at Minho’s resulting grunt. He grabs the first one off the stack and swivels to the shelf, moving a few novels aside so he can slide the new one between. It’s rather fulfilling to watch and Minho can’t help but smile himself. 

It goes on for a while, the boy leading Minho around and taking a book at a time out of his arms to shelve, occasionally sending Minho a tiny smile that warms his chest considerably. Minho doesn’t really mind the silence, though he would like it if the boy answered his questions and comments, but Minho likes being around him nonetheless, finding him somehow much more interesting than any of the guys or girls he had chased. His lack of response, other than the occasional blush, makes Minho all the more interested in figuring him out. 

“You know, I’ve never been as interested in books as I am right now,” Minho says, leaning against a shelf as the boy takes the last books out of his hands. 

The boy snorts with a roll of his eyes, and Minho laughs. “You’re so pretty.” 

The boy glances at him, quite clearly annoyed, but Minho can pick up on his blush. As to break the moment, Minho’s phone alarm suddenly goes off, cutting through the quiet around them, and he hurries to shut it off while cursing time for passing so quickly. “I have class, but I’ll see you around? Tomorrow?” 

The boy narrows his eyes at an attempt to look threatening, but Minho simply laughs at him and waves, leaving the boy all alone up on the second floor. 

**3**

A couple weeks go by and Minho returns to the library every day. He figures out that the boy is a student librarian who works the same shift on all the weekdays, but doesn’t come in on the weekends. While off put at first, the boy seems to have grown accustomed to him showing up and often has Minho carry books for him, all without speaking a single word. 

Minho has found the boy in the stacks, which he’s learned in basics is the storage for the library, and has been talking to him about this and that but he finally decides to ask. “I’ve come here nearly every day for two weeks and I haven’t heard you speak, even once. Are you unable to..?”

The boy bursts into giggles. Minho pouts as it’s at his expense but hearing the boy’s voice in some way is almost comforting. “I can speak,” the boy says, voice dripping with honey as he blinks up at Minho with a shy smile on his lips. “I just choose not to speak to you.”

“Your voice is pretty,” Minho murmurs, ignoring the jab as he’s elated at finally hearing his voice, and watches with pride as pink dusts the boy’s cheekbones. “You’re pretty.”

“And you’re shameless,” he quips, sliding the last book onto the shelf and then turning to wheel his cart past Minho. 

Minho stands in the empty aisle, staring at the corner where the boy had disappeared, completely enthralled. 

****

**4**

“I brought these for you,” Minho says, setting the roses on the counter. He found the boy at the main desk this time, sitting behind the computer. It’s been another few days with the boy saying nothing, and he desperately wants that to change. Why he’s obsessing over the boy’s voice is beyond him, but he can’t help wanting to hear it again and again.

The boy stares at Minho’s gift, transfixed, his fingers trailing along the pink petals of one flower. Looking up at Minho with widened eyes and messy brown hair, he bites down gently on his bottom lip, making himself look no less than beautiful in Minho’s own eyes. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to hear your voice, even if it was just ‘why,’” Minho says, and moves to sit on the edge of the counter. “So? Is that all you’re going to say?”

To Minho’s words the boy stands up and raises the flowers to smell them, peering over the tops at Minho. Turning, he walks away without warning, and disappears into the staff room. 

Minho sighs out his disappointment, glad he at least took the roses, and is about to leave when the boy comes back. He’s put the roses in a blue Nalgene, water swirling around the base of the stems in a makeshift vase. He sets the bottle on the top part of the counter and glances up at Minho. “Keep bringing fresh flowers for the counter every week and maybe I’ll talk to you.” 

Minho feels a grin tug at his lips. It feels like his heart is doing backflips at the acceptance of the gift - has the boy grown fond to the time they spend together. “You’re exploiting me.” 

The boy nods, a half-smile playing on his lips. “This place gets boring without color.”

“Fine, I’ll bring you your flowers every week,” Minho says, adding in a bit of a pout. It’s worth it when the boy giggles, a hand raising to cover his mouth. Minho’s heart does another funny pitter-patter. “You look pretty today.” And he does, all bundled up in a burgundy sweater. There’s a fine silver chain looped through both of his piercings in one of his ears with a stud in the other, different from how he normally wears jewelry. Either way, he’s hopelessly beautiful and Minho needs to get his heart checked out for the feats it’s performing. 

“I should know by now you won’t leave me alone unless you’ve said I’m pretty,” the boy says, turning his gaze to the computer but Minho can see the affect of his words that is now coloring Jisung’s skin. 

“I might be a lot of things but I’m not a liar,” Minho says, moving over so he can rest his elbows on the top counter, face directly above the computer screen. “Isn’t it nice to return a compliment?”

The boy rolls his eyes but Minho can tell he’s fighting a smile. “And for a law student isn’t it important to study?” He freezes up after his words, eyes going wide at the slip. 

“So you’ve been watching me?” Minho asks, a smirk obvious in his voice. The boy ignores Minho and pulls open a drawer to his side, grabbing a stack of sticky notes and scribbling hastily on one but Minho is undeterred. “Hm? Are you interested in me?”

The boy shakes his head, “Definitely not. I just saw one of your textbooks when I was passing by to shelve books.”

“Sure,” Minho says, smug. There’s a flare of hope in his chest that he’s never felt before, and he wants to follow where that spark might take him. “I bet you’ve asked about me, haven’t you? Are you a fan?”

The boy looks up to frown but it’s clear he’s more embarrassed than anything. “I haven’t and I don’t want to.”

Minho sighs, “You’ve wounded me.” Just then his phone vibrates and he pulls it out to check his messages. “I’ve got to go,” he says with a groan, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The boy hums, not looking up. Minho rolls his eyes and chooses to reach for a sticky note and the pen. He writes quickly and pulls the note from the stack to stick it in the middle of the computer screen. “Bye, pretty.”

He walks out of the library grinning, though he wishes he could have seen the boy’s reaction. 

_In the most not-creepy way I’ll figure out your major too. I can’t let the prettiest boy on campus slip away :)_

****

**5**

“Hey.”

The boy looks up from where he’s crouched, shelving books in one of the first rows of the stacks. His eyes widen upon seeing Minho’s state and he’s instantly on his feet. “What are you doing? You can’t bring drinks or food in here!”

“I know,” Minho says, positively beaming, just to set the boy off further. “I needed an excuse.”

“What?” The boy looks exasperated and increasingly stressed by every passing second. “What do you mean?”

“An excuse to get you out of here.”

“You’ve lost me,” the boy says, monotone. “Hurry up and leave.”

Minho smirks, “If you don’t come sit on the steps outside with me I’m going to dump both these drinks on the ground right here.” The boy’s eyes blow wide drastically, but Minho makes sure to seal the deal. “Maybe the coffee will splatter on some books. You never know. Should we test it out?”

“You’re cruel,” the boy squeaks, looking from Minho’s hands grasping the drinks to his face. “Awful. Manipulative. A terrible, terrible human.”

“I got you to say yes, though, didn’t I?”

The boy brushes past him, and Minho laughs as he rushes to keep up. 

It’s raining when the boy takes a drink from Minho and they sit together on the steps, which are shaded by the overhang. “What is it,” he mumbles, even as his lips meet the straw. 

“Iced Americano,” Minho says, taking a sip of his own. 

“Stupid choice for this weather,” the boy huffs, but he’s not distancing himself from the drink. 

“So.” Minho shifts closer and so he’s facing the boy who looks alarmed at the lessened proximity. “You look pretty today, as always.”

“Stop acting like this.”

Minho startles at the words, even though he’s expected them for some time. “Like what?”

“Like you actually want to know me,” the boy says, eyes focusing on the coffee in his hands. “I did ask about you because you make me nervous. I found out that you’re a second year law student and the biggest flirt on campus.”

Minho blinks in surprise, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach with the disappointment in the boy’s tone. “And do you believe that?”

The boy shrugs, glancing briefly to Minho. “That you’re a flirt? Yes. For over a month now you’ve come here and flirted with me, no, at me, almost every day.”

Minho sets down his near-empty drink and tugs at his sweater sleeve, pulling it back down from where it had been rolled up to his elbow. “What makes you think that I wouldn’t actually want to date you?”

The boy stills, and Minho can see all the thoughts in his mind come to a halt. “Because even if you did, even if you weren’t a flirt, I would reject you.”

His words should sting but with the way he’d said them so softly and the way his expression isn’t sour, just closed off, Minho feels a tinge of worry instead. “Why?”

The boy sighs, “Do you even know our age difference?”

“No.”

“If I’m right you’re twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

“Twenty-four.” Minho pauses, “are you telling me you’re not legal or something?”

The boy giggles at Minho’s expression. “I am. I’m twenty. But do you see my point? We’re from different circles.”

“Make another one,” Minho says, leaning back against the next stair up with his elbows. “Unsubstantial evidence.”

The boy rolls his eyes, “What’s your career path, something good, high paying, right? Lawyer, prosecutor, judge? I’m not going to do something as adventurous and life-changing as that.”

Minho frowns, “Are you saying you’re not good enough to be with me?” The boy shrugs again, looking deeply discouraged and Minho feels completely cold, like he’ll never experience warmth again. “I care about your personality, not what your job will be compared to mine. Is that why you’re trying to reject me?”

The boy looks away. “My personality is different than yours.”

“If we were all created with the same mind, what type of world would we be living in?” Minho asks, smiling when the boy’s eyes flicker up to his. He wants to reassure him that he is valuable, if nothing else. “Could you learn to trust me?”

The boy worries his bottom lip, “Maybe.”

Minho smiles. “Then, tomorrow, after your shift will you go out with me?”

“I guess so,” the boy mutters, but Minho can tell he’s trying to keep back a smile. 

“Okay.” Minho’s feels ecstatic, excitement in his veins that makes him feel invincible. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right here, outside.”

Just as he’s turning around the boy whispers a wait. “Jisung,” he says when he has Minho’s attention. “My name is Han Jisung.”

Minho feels the renowned butterflies. “Bye then, Han Jisung.”

****

**+1**

Jisung is shifting foot to foot at the top of the stairs outside the library when Minho spots him. He looks nervous beyond belief and Minho has the desire to comfort him but also to coo.

“Hey, Han Jisung,” he says when he’s climbed the stairs, and he’s smiling to offset the boy’s worry that is visibly disappearing.

“Lee Minho,” Jisung mutters, glaring at him. “I’m here.”

“I see that.” Minho doesn’t let the conversation continue further and takes Jisung’s hand. He tugs him along back through the library doors, following the path he’s taken so many times. He ignores Jisung’s questions he leads him down through the building and into the stacks, even as they slow so he can find the row to pull Jisung into. 

“What are you doing? Really, the library?” Jisung hisses, but Minho presses a finger to his lips, effectively rendering him quiet. 

When Jisung is glowering but silent, Minho sets about finding the books he’d snuck into the shelf across from where Jisung stands the previous evening after Jisung’s shift ended. As he arranges them around into the order he wants he hears gasps of dismay from behind him, which only hurry him along. 

When the books are properly placed he steps away, letting Jisung see what was partially hidden by his body. As he had expected Jisung reaches for the books to fix them, but before his fingers touch the first spine he pauses, eyebrows furrowing. 

Minho fiddles with the hem of his sweater, suddenly nervous, but he can’t tear his eyes away from Jisung as he finally realizes what Minho has wanted him to see. 

Of the books Minho had arranged, the top character in every title on the spine reads a different part of a sentence of his own making. 

_“I like you Han Jisung,”_ Jisung murmurs as he reads across the top of the spines, and his cheeks are glowing pink. “Minho, you—”

“I thought you should know,” Minho says, scratching the back of his neck. He’s embarrassed himself, not sure if he’s just fucked this up. 

Jisung has turned to gape at him, looking amazed. “You…”

“Me?” 

“Shut up,” Jisung grumbles, and is suddenly pulling Minho, by the front of his shirt, down into a kiss. It catches him off guard, as he’d almost expected rejection, but it isn’t long before he has Jisung backed up against a shelf, and soon they’re both smiling into the kiss. 

Jisung is so pretty this close up, Minho thinks, when they’re just inches apart and the ghost feeling of Jisung’s lips are still on his own. 

“Minho,” Jisung says into the slight space between them, and his words are so soft. “You’re really pretty, you know that?”

With a laugh Minho wraps Jisung up in a tight hug, and rocks them back and forth a bit. “You’re something else.”

Jisung giggles and takes Minho’s face into his hands to kiss him sweetly. “Yeah. I’m yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> i was a student librarian for years haha, don’t mind me freaking out abt that  
> also, yes the confession was inspired by crash lol  
> > [twitter](https://twitter.com/wasatch97)  
> > [tumblr](https://wasatch97.tumblr.com/)  
> > [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/wasatch97/)


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